


#1: Photographs

by holyhouses (MIKTRONIK)



Series: A Nice and Accurate Book of Oneshots [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Gaslighting, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, No Sex, Oneshot, Post-Canon, Prompt Fic, Sexting, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Unresolved Sexual Tension, crowley is lonely, don't fucking fight me, no beta we fall like demons, so he sends aziraphale nudes at work, what making people believe untrue things through miracles is definitely gaslighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28437453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MIKTRONIK/pseuds/holyhouses
Summary: Starting this thing off with a bang! I'm sure you can imagine what sort of photographs these are.Prompt was from a suggestion on the Good Omens discord: "NUDES."
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: A Nice and Accurate Book of Oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082993
Kudos: 27





	#1: Photographs

**Author's Note:**

> hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ok, i've never written anything this quickly before, or anything with so much sexual tension. Please forgive me if it's weird, ok bye.

_Ding._

Aziraphale frowned.

"Just one moment," he said to the woman in front of him, who was clutching a first edition of the _Odyssey_ in an iron-fisted grip that made him internally wince. "That might be my partner."

Shuffling aside stacks of papers, shaven-down nubs of pencils, and old mugs of congealed liquid, he dug up what he was looking for, a small, slim, obsidian faced box, wrapped in a thick rubber case since he'd taken it out of its box and immediately dropped the slippery thing. The infernal device was cool to the touch, far too small for his broad fingers, and of course, Crowley's doing. The demon would hear nothing of Aziraphale continuing to use his trusty rotary telephone.

Speak of the devil, the message was, as the angel suspected, from Crowley. _1 image,_ the little notification box on the softly glowing screen proclaimed, where it scrolled across the image of Earth on the background. Lifting one unwieldy finger, he jabbed the little box, then carefully, awkwardly, typed in his passcode.

The phone unlocked, opening straight to the messages app, where the image from Crowley was waiting.

The angel's jaw dropped.

But that... that couldn't...

He brushed the image, and it expanded to fill his whole screen.

His neck felt hot. There, on his screen, was a photo of Crowley, seemingly taken in a mirror. He was perched on the edge of the bed in his Mayfair flat, his phone held up close to his face, red-crowned head tilted back to expose the delicate flesh of his long neck.

He was also very, very nude.

"Good Lord," Aziraphale gasped. Crowley's legs were angled so his genitals weren't at all visible, but somehow that made it _worse_. 

The woman over by the counter cleared her throat. Absently, Aziraphale snapped and she suddenly flew into a panic as she realized she'd left the stove on at home. He closed his eyes. In his hand his phone buzzed, and he looked again.

Another photo, this one with Crowley's phone held so it covered the area between his obscenely spread legs, his hand fisted in his own red hair, eyes heavy, mouth ever so slightly open and swollen, like he'd been biting his lips.

_Aziraphale,_ came a message afterward, _come over. Close the bookshop, I want you <3_

"Oh dear," Aziraphale said. He swallowed. 

_I'm afraid I mustn't,_ he sent back. _It's nowhere near closing!_

_Fuck that you don't even sell anything. Come fuck me angellll_

_You'll just have to be patient, my dear._

Several moments passed. Aziraphale looked around, caught sight of the moldering mugs on his desk, wrinkled his nose in disgust, and banished them, completely cleansed and very surprised, to the kitchen cupboards.

_Buzz._ Aziraphale looked down.

"A video? How curious," he mused to himself. He clicked on it.

Quite immediately, he found he was suddenly making the Effort, and a brighter red than he'd ever been.

"This is what I want you to do to me," Crowley's voice purred from the tiny phone speakers. "Aziraphale. _Angel."_

There was a soft squelching noise, and Crowley let forth a lovely deep moan. But Aziraphale couldn't hear it.

He was already on his way to Mayfair.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream with me on [my tumblr](https://miktronik.tumblr.com/)!!!


End file.
